Only Human
by So Teeny
Summary: [Ichigo x Rukia][One shot] Sometimes it hurts...


_Huzzah! My first BLEACH fic... not sure if it's too crappy because my hands were frozen while typing this. Anyways, constructive feedback is welcome! _

Lain Blackchurch

**

* * *

**

**Only Human  
**_by Lain Blackchurch_

She watches him as he sits on the stone wall, only a few paces from where she stands. His long legs are dangling from the edge, wet denim clinging to his thighs. He looks so forlorn at the moment, so lost there with an almost empty expression on his face.

He's been like this for hours now.

It had started out as a simple argument over her powers. Over why she hadn't regained them yet. She said it was partially his fault, he was the one who had her Soul Reaper abilities anyways. He had countered immediately with a retort that he had never wanted her powers in the first place and that the only reason he was in this mess was because she had given him her powers.

And if she had _just_ done her damned job.

When she had finally said that his mother would have been ashamed that he was so immature to be arguing with the wiser, more-experienced generation (for Rukia was certainly ten times only that Masaki's fifteen-year-old-son) he had stopped his retorts and had leapt out the window, sliding down the slick gutter drain and running off.

"A Soul Reaper is useless if they are sick." Rukia sighs, wrapping her arms around her chest and staring at him. He barely acknowledges her presence and gives a short cough before running his fingers through his damp hair and finally sliding off the wall and landing with a stumble beside Rukia. She smirks. "I knew you'd see it my way."

He says nothing, and it's so unlike him. He usually is so pushy when she speaks to him like so. So defiant like he's always right or something (which he isn't). Abruptly, something cold and slick is pressed into her hand, and she turns her eyes only slightly to see his hand grasping her own. "Ichi--" she begins, only to be stopped and jerked backwards.

His chest is heaving slightly and she can barely see his eyes underneath his orange bangs. She tries her best to read his face, search for any emotion, but it's pointless, it's like trying to decipher a wall. And then, he shoved her away, hard and fierce. She slammed against the wall that Ichigo has once used as a seat and felt her head smack hard on it, but only enough to faze her just a bit.

Now she sees his hands pressing her shoulders against the wall. "Sure, say I'm useless. Say that I'm fuckin' weak, but don't you fucking dare say my mother's name like that!" His voice is fierce, on fire, and he releases her, turning around and dashing off once again.

Rukia thinks it best to remain here for a while in penance.

She knows that she certainly has no right to speak to him in such a way.

* * *

She has finished climbing up the gutter pipe, only to be greeted with an empty room. At least his shoes are here... that has to be a good sign, right? Rukia slides through the window and sits upon his vacant bed for a while, the sheets made and neat. It's hard, waiting for him to show up because she knows that she must...

Apologize is the word she's looking for, isn't it?

Yes, that's right.

She wonders where he is right now. The water downstairs is running so maybe he's taking a shower or something. Rukia dresses in Yuzu's borrowed pajamas and slips into the linen closet, full of down comforters and sheets. It's a long while that she lays there, musing, thinking, wondering.

Is he really angry with him? Will he fight Hollows on call again? Will he perform the Konso again? She runs her hand over her face and listens to the soft click of the door, open and close. She can hear him sigh and lay down upon the bed.

And then...

Footsteps...

The door to the closet opens and she jerks upright. Ichigo stands there, dressed in a pair of shorts and a clinging white t-shirt. His hair is draping into his face, dripping wet and his skin is still moist-looking from the bathroom. Ichigo takes a seat onto the shelf and shuts the door, turning around to look at Rukia.

He says nothing, only getting onto his knees and sitting back on them, hands on his lap. He looks so tired sitting there before her in the dark, brown always in his cross-looking furrow. Ichigo gives a breath and settles himself down onto the sheets and comforters, hands wrapped around his stomach. "Thinking about her makes me sick sometimes..."

"Really...?" Rukia mumbles, as if nothing has ever happened to make circumstances lead to this. "You don't seem like the type to get stomach aches."

"Shut up."

"I'm only saying, moron."

They say nothing for a long while until finally Rukia eyes him in a guilty manner, patting her lap and grabbing his shoulders. He looks somewhat surprised at the motion but moves downwards to her thighs and rests his head there, stretching the rest of his body out and allowing her fingers right to tangle in his orange hair.

He reaches up and drags his hand along, cupping her cheek gently and his lips perform an odd action. A smile, and she cannot help but return it. However, her legs feel numb soon enough, tingling with the strange sensation that some call 'pins and needles'. She stretches her legs out on either side of his head and feels him shift a bit more.

His head rests against her stomach, arms wrapped around her waist now. "God..." he mumbles. "Oh God, my head hurts..." Ichigo rubs his temples slightly and snorts lightly, his head pressing deeper into her stomach so that she feels her ribs pressing over her skin slightly.

"Stop that, you fool, it hurts..."

He is silent, quiet... he's always silent, isn't he? And no matter how many times he fights, how many times he gets hurt, he never cries.

"You shouldn't try so hard to be something you're not," she mutters. "It's not good for you."

"I'm human... or trying to be," he replies, fingers digging into her skin. "Just me..."

"That's all right..."

"No it's not," he says, rolling onto his back and shutting his eyes. "It's not all right."


End file.
